


Clueless in Cascade

by Katef



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-01 12:13:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13998114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katef/pseuds/Katef
Summary: As usual the boys aren’t communicating; tip-toeing around each other for fear of offending or ruining their platonic relationship.  Will they never learn?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A SenBingo story using 5 prompts as chapters:  
> 1\. Unrequited love  
> 2\. Forbidden fruit  
> 3\. Vanishing Act  
> 4\. Friends with good intentions  
> 5\. Fireworks

**Chapter 1. Prompt – Unrequited love**   


**Blair’s office, Hargrove Hall, Rainier University:**  


“C’mon, babe. What’s wrong? You can tell me, hon. You’re like a cat on a hot tin roof. I mean, I’ve seen you stressed and hyper before, but never like this. Can I help? And don’t tell me it’s just because Prof Reed has landed you with another Anthro 101. When you’re in energiser bunny mode there’s nothing you can’t do!” 

Blair turned and faced his inquisitor, his expression part frustrated anger and part rueful appreciation as he ran his hand through his long curls in unfeigned exasperation. His friend and fellow TA – and sometime lover – Mitch Walewski was watching him intently, but there was nothing in his face to suggest an ulterior motive. 

Sighing deeply, Blair stopped his pacing and sank down into his chair again, raising sad eyes to meet Mitch’s dark brown gaze. 

“I’m sorry, man. I know you mean well, but there’s nothing you can do. Nothing _anyone_ can do. It’s something I have to sort out for myself and try not to destroy everything I’ve worked for in the process.” 

Mitch’s attractive, coffee-toned face stretched in a wry half-grin as he studied Blair, knowing now for sure what was bugging the younger man. 

“It’s your cop, isn’t it, kiddo? What’s he done? Does he suspect that you want him, babe? And he’s giving you hard time because of it?” 

“No. No!” Blair’s response was too quick, and plainly didn’t convince his friend, but he soldiered on anyway. 

“It’s not like that, man. I mean, yes. I do admit I admire him. I mean, what’s not to like? We’re talking Greek god material, man! But he’s straight, Mitch. I mean, uber-macho ex-military cop here. If I gave him even a hint that I’m bi, I’d be out on my ass before you could say ‘pack your bags, Sandburg’. He thinks I’m a horn dog, and that I’ve slept with every available woman in Cascade, and I so don’t need him to think otherwise. Dammit, I _like_ living with him, and riding with him. It’s the best time I’ve ever had in my life. 

“And I do like women anyway, and I’ve only dated them since I moved into the loft. It’s just so _hard,_ man. So hard to keep up the uncomplicated man-to-man camaraderie shit all the time without putting my foot in it. It’s in my nature to flirt; I _know_ it, Mitch, so don’t grin at me like that! So constantly watching what I say all the time is exhausting.” 

Rising to his feet, Mitch moved gracefully around the cluttered desk to stand behind Blair, resting his hands for a moment on tense shoulders before beginning to knead them expertly. 

“You know what you need, babe, and it isn’t another woman. You need someone who can give you what you want. And you can even call me ‘Jim’ if you like. How about it, babe? For old times’ sake?” 

For a moment, Blair was so tempted, relaxing gradually under Mitch’s touch. But he knew he couldn’t risk it, so reluctantly he raised his hands to push Mitch’s away before turning in his seat to face his friend. 

“I’m sorry, man. I mean, yes, it’s tempting, but I can’t. We had a good time together, but we both knew it wouldn’t last. We’re better as friends than lovers, and I don’t want a one-off with you. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us. 

“And Jim would know,” he added, almost to himself. 

“How? How would he, babe? You won’t tell him, and I sure as hell won’t. What would be the harm?” 

But Blair knew it couldn’t happen. It was just going to be difficult to turn his friend down without hurting him. But Mitch didn’t know for sure about Jim’s senses, even if he guessed as much, knowing Blair’s chosen dissertation topic and long-time fixation with the subject of sentinels. And Blair couldn’t risk confirming his suspicions. Jim’s secrets weren’t his to tell, and he was already treading on thin ice when it came to losing his objectivity and ‘going native’; the cardinal sin for an anthropologist. 

“No, Mitch. Thanks again, but no. It wouldn’t be right. _I_ wouldn’t feel right about it. I don’t want to use you to scratch an itch, man. You’re too important to me for that. 

“Even if I didn’t mind, babe? I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want it.” Mitch’s eyes twinkled, and his smile was more of a gentle leer, and Blair was glad he didn’t seem offended. 

“I know, Mitch. And I thank you. You’ve been a good friend to me, and I appreciate you listening to me ranting. But I’ll be OK, now. Honest.” 

Mitch didn’t look convinced, but he knew his friend better than to push too hard. 

“OK, then, babe. But just you remember that my offer stands, and if you need me, I’ll be here, OK? 

“Now, I must get on, or Reed’ll be on my ass too. Take care, babe,” and with a final pat to Blair’s cheek he was gone, leaving a very confused and still restless young man behind him.   


\-------------------------------  


Shortly afterwards, Blair had finished his outstanding pop quiz marking, his conversation with Mitch having cleared the air somewhat and calmed him enough to put him in the right state of mind to at least accomplish that much. Tidying away the pile of papers, and tucking another batch of blue books into his backpack to finish up at home, he shut down his PC and listened out for Jim’s arrival. 

Because Jim was only catching up with his own paperwork today, and wasn’t expecting to go out in the field, he had suggested that Blair spend some time in his office, and had even agreed to give the younger man a ride to the U. He would undoubtedly have preferred Blair to come into the PD and help him out with the despised reports, but as he didn’t need backup for the senses, it was only fair to give the kid some time to himself. 

However, when Blair’s office door opened without warning, Blair’s welcoming expression froze on his face. 

“Fuck!” he breathed in shock. Then louder, “What are you doing here? What do you want?” 

Producing a very large and frightening-looking handgun, his visitor smirked evilly, murmuring, “Why, you of course, Blair, baby. You should have known I’d be back….” 

To be continued.  



	2. Prompt - Forbidden fruit

**Chapter 2. Prompt – Forbidden fruit.**   


Jim glanced at his watch for the umpteenth time, cursing how slowly the hours seemed to be ticking by. He had waded through far more of his tedious paperwork than he’d expected to do without his faithful guide-cum-personal assistant at his side, but that didn’t mean to say that he felt any happier about the lack of entertainment he had had to endure. For sure, his colleagues weren’t entirely uninteresting and stand-offish. Well, at least, not so much now that Jim himself had thawed out some, thanks to the influence of his irrepressible partner. But they couldn’t compensate for Blair’s cheerful personality and unceasing chatter, and both Jim-the-sentinel and Jim-the-man was missing him greatly. 

Eventually, however, Simon took pity on his increasingly morose lead detective and told Jim to go and collect his partner. 

“I know you’ve done a decent amount of desk duty today, Jim, and I can do without watching the atmosphere in the bullpen deteriorate along with your patience, so get going. 

“And tell the kid hello from me, and to get his ass back in here as soon as possible, you hear?” 

“You got it, boss,” replied a very relieved Jim. “He said he’d got a free morning tomorrow, so we’ll go and follow up on those interviews and leads on the China Town drive-by shooting. See you tomorrow!” And finally smiling, he reached for his jacket and waved to his colleagues, not minding in the least the knowing smirks and chuckles that tracked his progress through the bullpen.  


\---------------------------------  


Shortly afterwards, Jim drove towards Rainier, a Santana track playing softly on the truck’s stereo and a self-satisfied grin on his handsome face. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have found his guide – or rather, to have been found by Blair – and although he was careful not to reveal too much about himself or his emotions for the sake of self-preservation, he was thoroughly enjoying the young man’s company both at work and in the loft. Indeed, he would never have believed it of himself up until a few months ago, but now he didn’t know what he would do without Blair’s exuberant personality lighting up his dull existence and literally saving his sanity. It didn’t bear thinking of. 

But therein lay the problem, and Jim’s face fell as he considered that unpalatable scenario anyway. 

Most of the time he deliberately tried to avoid thinking about such a morbid topic, but inevitably it would creep up and bite him in the ass even at the most inopportune moments. Like now, when he had been looking forward with eager anticipation to an evening spent with Blair, just kicking back and enjoying themselves with a Jags game and a few beers. 

Although he tried never to bring up the subject of the dreaded diss, in case he learned something he didn’t want to hear, he knew that eventually Blair would finish and present it, and once he had those three much-desired letters after his name, he’d go. What was there to stop him, after all? Oh, Jim was sure that Blair wouldn’t just leave him in the lurch with a cheery, _‘Thanks, man. See ya around!’_ But there would be no reason for him to stay in the loft anymore. He’d undoubtedly secure a teaching post and a proper salary at Rainier, and perhaps even tenure eventually, so he’d be able to afford a decent place of his own. And such a position would surely entail going on frequent, possibly extended expeditions so that the kid wouldn’t have much time to spend socialising with a cranky cop even if he was so inclined. 

And even though Jim was sure he’d still make himself available to offer advice about any problems with the senses, it wouldn’t be the same. Because Jim had never let on just how important Blair’s physical presence was to him. How much more easily he could use his gift with his guide’s touch, scent and voice to ground him. And although it had been a while now since Jim had actually zoned, on the rare occasion that he did, it was only Blair who could pull him out with such instinctive ease. 

Sighing, Jim allowed himself to go deeper for once, and honestly consider how much more Blair meant to him over and above the sentinel stuff. 

He knew he would never admit to Blair how much he appreciated the younger man’s attractiveness – beauty, even. He considered himself basically straight; having even attempted marriage at one point, however disastrous that had turned out to be; but he had also never deceived himself that he couldn’t admire another man on occasion. During his time in the military, he had been known to avail himself of a freely-offered and uncomplicated buddy-fuck at times to scratch an itch where there were no women available, and there had been one or two instances when he had been in Vice. 

But none of those instances had involved what he felt for Blair, which was why he’d never mentioned it. He felt sure that loving Blair – _making love_ to Blair – would involve so much more, and Jim didn’t think he could bear to leave himself open to the pain if the kid either turned him down flat, or agreed simply because he was too good-natured to refuse his sentinel anything. 

And after all, Jim still believed that Blair was a skirt-chaser _par excellence,_ so that maybe the merest hint that Jim wanted more from him would send him running for the hills. 

No, Jim decided firmly. Better to enjoy the status quo while he could, and stop thinking about the what-might-have-beens. Once Blair left, he would just have to suck it up and learn to live without him. Blair was forbidden fruit as far as a deeper relationship was concerned, and Jim just had to accept the fact. 

But for now, he’d enjoy everything he could get, and that included tonight. And on that positive thought, he pulled up in the parking lot nearest to Hargrove Hall, and climbed down from the truck, already smiling cheerfully again, and looking forward to springing his guide from his academic cage.  


\-------------------------------  


Mere minutes later, Jim’s smile had been wiped from his face; to be replaced by an angry and perplexed scowl. Approaching Blair’s tiny office-cum-storeroom, he had realised immediately that there was no one inside. And once he had pushed open the unlocked door, his concern had ratcheted up to danger levels. Blair’s backpack containing his precious laptop lay where it had been dropped behind the untidy desk, and there were signs of a scuffle in the dust on the floor. 

Not only that, but when Jim cast around with his senses, he could tell immediately that his guide had been frightened, and probably hurt also. His attractive personal scent was tinged with the sourness of distress and the distinct, coppery hint of blood, and Jim’s sensitive nose told him also that there had been at least two other visitors recently. 

However, his clever and plucky guide had obviously not been scared enough to be incapacitated, and Jim’s hopes were raised a little when he spotted a possible source of vital information. Careful not to disturb any trace evidence, he crept around the small space until he reached Blair’s desk, and the small recorder he used for note-taking, half hidden underneath a pile of blue books. 

A recorder that had been left on, and which might therefore provide a valuable lead on who had had the temerity to abduct his guide. 

Pulling out his cell phone, Jim called Simon directly, filling him in quickly on his suspicions. And to his captain’s credit, Banks didn’t even query his friend and subordinate’s information, simply assuring Jim that he would have a patrol unit and forensics team sent over immediately, and that he would be coming himself. 

No stone would be left unturned in the quest to rescue Sandburg.  



	3. Prompt - Vanishing Act

**Chapter 3: Prompt – Vanishing Act.**   


**Somewhere in downtown Cascade:**  


Blair surreptitiously tested the ropes binding his wrists and ankles, securing him to the hard-backed chair on which he was sitting. He was frightened, most certainly, but he was also angry. Angry that a part of his life he had thought over and done with had come back to bite him on the ass. Alone for the moment, he tried harder to wriggle free, only to find that his captor had made too good a job of his bonds, and all he was managing to do was rub his wrists and ankles raw. 

Giving up for a moment, he looked around him, taking in the dirty and dilapidated room which was almost certainly a druggie’s squat, judging by the filthy sleeping bag in the corner, and the discarded detritus usually associated with either shooting up or snorting product. Since his captor had pulled a bag over his head as soon as he had been thrust into a waiting vehicle, Blair had no way of knowing where exactly he was, but the relative brevity of their journey suggested that he was still in Cascade and most probably in one of the most run-down areas of downtown. 

_Oh, goddess, Jim! he thought longingly. Please find me, man. Even if you throw me out after you find out what I’ve done, please find me first!_

Just then, the door opened to admit his nemesis, and he was hard put not to flinch at the narrow-eyed sneer on the man’s face. But he wasn’t going to beg. Not yet, anyway. So he sat up a little straighter in his seat and growled, “OK, Rory. You’ve had your fun, man. Consider me scared, OK? Now either tell me what you want, or let me go. I won’t tell, if that’s what you’re worried about. I mean, it’s not like the shit wouldn’t stick to me too, and I can do without that. So, what do you say?” 

Although he hardly expected Rory to capitulate, he was taken aback by the man’s reaction all the same. As soon as he finished speaking, Rory threw back his head and laughed harshly in genuine amusement before pinning Blair with a cruel, cold stare. 

“You always were a ballsy little fucker, kid. You gotta know that’s not what I’m here for. I’m here for vengeance, you sneaky little rat. You say you won’t tell on me now, but what about ten years ago, huh? It was you got me sent down, you little bastard, and now I’m getting even.” 

So saying, he advanced on Blair, pulling the wide leather belt out of the loops on his jeans as he came. Blair watched in wide-eyed horror as the big man wrapped the belt around his fist, and barely had time to tense up before the first blow fell.  


\--------------------------------  


**Meanwhile, in Simon Banks’ office, MCU:**  


Jim paced around his captain’s office, unable to sit still while his thoughts and emotions were in such turmoil. He was sure that time was running out for his guide, and desperately needed to do something – _anything_ – to trace his lost friend, but for the moment he still lacked vital information. And the source of that information seemed to be taking forever to arrive. 

As for Simon, he was every bit as worried, but on behalf of both his friend and subordinate, and said friend’s missing partner, of whom Simon was undeniably fond even if he would never dream of admitting such a thing out loud. If he had ever harboured any doubts about how deeply Jim cared for Sandburg, they were completely dispelled as he witnessed Jim’s almost manic reaction playing out before his very eyes. And he was equally certain that, if they failed to find Blair alive, it wouldn’t be long until the sentinel either zoned for good, or ate his gun in despair.  


\-----------------------------------  


As soon as Simon had arrived at Blair’s office, quickly followed by two patrol units and the promised forensics team, Jim had told him about the tape recorder, and also – more quietly - about what his senses had discerned about Blair’s physical and emotional condition when he had done his vanishing act. And to give Simon credit, he hadn’t batted an eyelid at Jim’s assertion, although both men knew that such ephemeral evidence was of little use unless backed up by something more specific. 

Having said that, as soon as the forensics team got to work on the supposed crime scene –with some pointers from Jim, it had to be said – Simon and Jim returned to Major Crimes to listen to the recording in private. There was no way either man wanted to share potentially damaging information until they’d heard it first for themselves. 

And what they heard had shaken both men, Jim especially, to the core. 

Switching on the small recorder, Simon rewound the tape, and started at the beginning, to find that the first section was nothing more than Blair’s dictated notes concerning a series of lectures he was preparing to deliver. He fast-forwarded the tape until it reached a point where Blair had simply failed to turn it off. A point where he had obviously had an unexpected visitor, but not an unwelcome one. 

What followed was the exchange between Blair and Mitch Walewski, and it had to be said that it was uncomfortable listening for both men, particularly Jim. Neither man had had any idea that Sandburg was anything but uncompromisingly straight, despite his bohemian appearance and some snide but supposedly baseless rumours to the contrary. But it wasn’t learning otherwise that hit Jim where it hurt. 

How on earth could he have missed so many clues while the kid was living under his very roof? He had convinced himself that there was no way Blair would be interested in him at all, yet here he was, listening to Blair’s own words, confessing his unrequited love for Jim. His very real love for his dissertation subject. And not only that, but as good as admitting that he’d had male lovers before. 

Jim knew he was going to have to spend a considerable time ‘processing’ all this, as his guide would say, but for the time being, it would have to go on hold. Because right now the only thing that mattered was getting Blair back, preferably whole and unharmed. 

Everything else could wait until then. 

The final section of tape had been very short, and consisted of a few shocked words from Blair and a partial name, and that was it. His last words, before he was plainly overpowered, were, “No, Rory! Leave me alone, man…” followed by a muffled thud and a groan. 

At that point, Jim had leapt from his seat, growling in his chest like the black jaguar who was his animal spirit, and for a moment Simon had feared for Jim’s sanity. However, the sentinel had made a gargantuan effort to regain control of his fury, and had simply turned to address Simon in a voice harsh with anger and pain. 

“We have to bring in this Mitch character, Simon. I need to hear what he can tell us about Blair. About Blair’s earlier years at the U. He just might know something that can help us.” 

Simon had nodded in enthusiastic agreement, and had immediately dispatched H and Rafe to track the man down. At that point, they didn’t know his surname, but it surely wouldn’t be too hard to locate Blair’s friend. They just had to hope that he would be amenable to be interviewed down at the PD.  


\--------------------------------  


A few short hours later, although it seemed an eternity to the distraught sentinel, H and Rafe returned to the bullpen, accompanied by a slender, graceful young man. As Simon rose to his feet to beckon them over to his office, Jim took the opportunity to scan the newcomer carefully, cataloguing every detail and creating an in-depth impression for himself. 

The first thing that struck him was that the man wasn’t anxious or fearful at all. For sure, he was gazing around him with unfeigned interest, but the dark eyes were guileless and warm. He obviously had no idea why he was here, H and Rafe having kept that information to themselves as instructed. And he was certainly attractive. Fine-boned and even-featured, his café-au-lait complexion and thick wavy dark hair spoke of mixed race ancestry, and Jim could well understand why his guide might have dated him in the past. 

As he entered the office, the young man extended his hand first to Simon, and then to Jim. 

“Hi, guys. Mitch Walewski at you service. What can I do for you?” 

As he introduced himself, Simon’s faintly quizzical expression on hearing Mitch’s surname for the first time made the young man grin in resigned good humour, plainly used to the reaction. Waving a hand to indicate his person, he chuckled, “What can I say, man? Polish father and Jamaican mom. Et voila!” 

Despite himself, Jim couldn’t help but warm to Mitch, but wanted to get down to business without further ado. 

“Good to meet you, Mr Walewski, and thank you for coming here. But we need to speak to you urgently, sir. About Blair Sandburg.” 

Sobering immediately, Mitch looked from one to the other inquisitively before taking the seat Jim indicated as Simon dismissed H and Rafe with a word of thanks. 

“Sure, man. You’re Detective Ellison, aren’t you? The cop Blair’s been riding with. How can I help? He’s not in any trouble, is he?” 

“Yes, Mr Walewski, I’m afraid he is. And we’re truly hoping you can help us out. You saw him this afternoon, didn’t you?” 

“Uh, yes, detective, I did. Why?” Mitch’s tone now was definitely wary, and his expression perplexed. 

“Because later on he apparently had another visitor. Someone called ‘Rory’ who was definitely _not_ welcome, and now he’s gone missing. They’re both missing!” 

This time Mitch’s expression was undoubtedly troubled, and he covered his mouth with a slender hand as he gasped in unfeigned shock. 

“Oh, god! Oh, Blair baby,” he breathed almost to himself. “What have you gotten yourself into now?” Then, meeting Jim’s and Simon’s intense gazes in turn, he continued more strongly, “Look Detective Ellison, Captain Banks, I don’t know if what I can tell you is really relevant, and if it isn’t, please don’t hold it against Blair. He’s a good friend and a good person, and I love him dearly. 

“But if it will help, then I’m prepared to tell you what I know. For Blair’s sake.” 

On receiving both men’s assurances that they would treat his information with the utmost discretion, he leaned forward a little more in his seat and began. 

“I don’t know how much you know about Blair’s early years at Rainier, but I assume you know he started very young. He was barely sixteen when he arrived, and he had hardly any money. His mom gave him a small allowance and then basically left him to his own devices. And suffice it to say, it was hard for him. I was in the same year as him, a few years older, of course, and I have to say he was the cutest and smartest kid I’d ever met. But it wasn’t easy for him to get accepted, sad to say, and pretty soon he was just about penniless and ready to quit. 

“Anyhow, I befriended him, and he told me about his cousin Robert. The bookmaker. I didn’t want him to get involved, but there wasn’t much I could do, as I didn’t have that much money myself. So he started to run the numbers for Robert on occasion, and played the ponies too, with some success. Kept the wolf from the door anyway. Trouble was, he came to the attention of another guy, Rory Lewins. Lewins fancied himself as a big deal, and was trying to muscle in on the other syndicates. He heard about Blair’s magic touch with the ponies, and approached him. And persuaded him to do the same for him. Told him he’d do for Robert if Blair didn’t comply, and the kid had every reason to believe him. 

“Needless to say, eventually Blair’s luck ran out, and Rory told him he’d take it out in trade. I found him one day in the dorm, crying and bleeding. The bastard had raped him, but Blair wouldn’t let me report it in case Lewins went after Robert. So I went to Robert myself and told him everything. 

“Now, I have no idea what went down after that. Didn’t want to know. But suffice it to say that Lewins got sent down for a few years, although I dare say it wasn’t for raping a college kid. 

“And once Blair was recovered, and old enough to decide for himself, we started to date. We both hoped that we’d seen the last of Lewins, and to be honest, I think we both forgot about him. As time went on, we stopped being an item, but have always been friends. 

“And that’s all I can tell you, guys. But if Lewins is out and is responsible for Blair’s disappearance, you need to hurry, guys, because that man is truly bad news, and I fear for Blair’s safety.” 

Mitch had hardy finished speaking when Simon went into action, calling for an APB on Lewins after confirming that the man had indeed been released from Starkville only two days ago. 

As for Jim, he knew instinctively that Mitch’s information was accurate, and his focus now was on tracking down the evil bastard who was holding his guide, maybe even hurting him right now. He didn’t know it yet, but Lewins’ days were numbered, because the sentinel was on the hunt.  



	4. Prompt - Friends with good intentions

**Chapter 4: Prompt – Friends with good intentions.**   


The next few hours passed in a whirlwind of activity as virtually every available member of Major Crimes sprang into action, bound and determined to seek out and rescue one of their own. If Blair had ever doubted his place in the team, he would be reassured of his popularity at the sight of so many of his friends and colleagues scouring Cascade for the tiniest hint of information concerning his whereabouts, and of course, in the forefront was his partner and sentinel. 

Once Rory Lewins had been positively identified, his mug shot was rapidly distributed around the department and to every one of Cascade’s uniformed patrol officers, and the detectives pushed every informant they knew for any clues as to the newly released man’s current location. Of course, he should have been reporting to his appointed Parole Officer, but a quick call to that official confirmed that Lewins had failed to report in after an initial meeting, and also had failed to check in to the accommodation designated as his base during his period of parole. Effectively, he had dropped out of sight, and it was more than frustrating, but Jim wasn’t giving up. He couldn’t afford to while Blair’s very life might be in danger. 

In the end it was Jim’s own snitch, Sneaks, who provided the first real lead. Sneaks liked Blair – possibly because he had relieved him of at least one pair of expensive sneakers before now – but also because the young man treated him well anyway. And as soon as he heard that Blair had been abducted, and by whom, he contacted Jim with what he knew. 

“Look, Detective, I like the kid, OK? And I wouldn’t want to see him hurt. But if it is Rory Lewins that has him, he’s in big trouble. Bastard got out a couple of days ago, and I heard he’d found a place to hide out down in Grosvenor East. Where the junkies and winos hang out. He’s an angry man, and if the kid’s in his sights, he better watch out because Lewins likes to hurt people just for the fun of it, even if he has no cause. And he’s got connections down there too, so be safe, man.” 

Jim had thanked him profusely and tried to offer him some money, but Sneaks refused. “Nah, Detective. You keep it. I like the kid, so this is on the house. Just get him back safe, OK?” and with that, he had slipped away again into the night. 

Armed with this new intelligence, Jim and Simon immediately set out for the run-down district in Simon’s unmarked sedan and followed by H, Rafe and Joel and a further patrol car at a safe distance. 

Winding down the passenger’s side window, Jim concentrated hard, and began to test the air. 

Looking askance at his friend, Simon asked, “What’re you doing, Jim? I mean, I know you have a sensitive nose, but surely you can’t expect to smell him from so far away!” 

Not letting up on his efforts, Jim replied somewhat distractedly, “Yeah, I can. If he’s around here at all, I’ll scent him. And I should be able to hear his heartbeat too. It anchors me, and…and…it’s close!” he growled suddenly. “Over there, Simon! About two blocks away! And he’s hurt!”   


\--------------------------------  


In Lewins’ rat-infested hideout, Blair groaned as he slowly regained consciousness, various aches and pains checking in such that it felt as if there was no part of his body uninjured. His head was throbbing unmercifully and his mouth was dry and foul-tasting on account of the rag that had been used to gag him. After what seemed like an interminable time, he managed to open eyes that felt glued shut just a fraction, and tried to move, only to find that he was now on his side, still bound hand and foot, but apparently lying on the old sleeping bag. And within moments, he wished that he was either still in the chair, or on the dirty floor, as the filthy, evil-smelling material under his head was vile enough to make him feel nauseous. Vaguely aware that vomiting while gagged wouldn’t be the best idea, he tried not to breathe too deeply, willing himself to concentrate on more important things, such as, where was his tormentor, and how badly was he hurt. 

Listening carefully, he thought he could make out the scratching of rodent feet behind the sheetrock in the wall beside him, but he couldn’t hear anything else, so perhaps Lewins had gone out for a while, or at least was in a different part of the building. He prayed it was so, because he was certain he couldn’t take another beating like the one he’d just endured. Lewins had appeared to take enormous pleasure in lashing every bit of Blair’s unprotected body that he could reach, although he had generally avoided Blair’s head and face. _Probably because he didn’t want to risk killing me too quickly,_ he mused wryly. _But not because he wants to keep my good looks intact!_ After all, Lewins had pistol-whipped Blair in his office, hard enough to half-stun him, and by the blood that had run into his eyes and down his face, Blair guessed he had a pretty good laceration in his scalp. 

But none of that mattered if Lewins had something else in mind once Blair was conscious again enough to feel it. And that was a replay of what he had done to Blair all those years ago, when he had raped the hapless and helpless youngster just because he could. 

_Don’t think about it! Jim’ll come, I’m sure of it! Just, please the goddess, let him get here before Rory decides to fuck me again. I don’t think I could bear it even if I survive. Couldn’t bear to see the disgust on Jim’s face…._

Suddenly, the door opened to admit Lewins, and Blair knew it was all over. He didn’t need to see the cruel, lascivious expression on the other man’s face to know what he intended to do. And as his evil would-be rapist reached for him to yank at his jeans and boxers, Blair struggled and kicked out in vain. 

_No! Oh, goddess, NO!_

Then there was a mighty crash, and the door flew off its hinges to reveal a furious sentinel, and Lewins could read death in the cold, cold eyes. 

It was the last thing Blair saw before the pain in his head exploded, and he passed out.  


\-----------------------------------  


**Later, in Cascade General Hospital:**  


Jim sat beside his partner’s bed, totally focussed on the young man’s sleeping figure. Blair had woken briefly during the ambulance ride to the ER, but had seemed very disorientated, and had soon lapsed back into unconsciousness. On arrival at the ER, he had immediately been whisked away to the X ray department for a head scan, after which he had been stitched and patched up as necessary, all without waking again. Once settled on a ward, Jim had been allowed to sit with him, although not without some difficulty on account of him not being family. But since he was able to show that he was Blair’s legal medical representative, and had the backing of Captain Simon Banks of Cascade Major Crimes Unit to boot, Blair’s disapproving attending physician hadn’t been able to stop him. 

Carefully monitoring his guide’s steady heartbeat and even breathing, Jim once again took stock of the kid’s injuries, trying hard to control his ever-present anger and resentment that once again Blair had been hurt, with him unable to prevent it. It did no good to tell himself that this time it wasn’t anything to do with him or his job, but was to do with Blair’s own past. He still felt that he should have been able to get to his partner sooner before that bastard Lewins had beaten him so badly. 

Then again, it could have been so much worse. As soon as Jim had pinpointed the squalid house where Lewins was holed up, he, Simon and their backup had wasted no time in breaking in, just as Lewins was in the process of assaulting Blair. But he hadn’t managed to finish what he had started, and now he never would. 

And Jim couldn’t help but feel a certain guilty pleasure on that account. 

Because as soon as he had broken down that door, snarling, “Freeze! Cascade PD!” Lewins had reached for the semi-auto pistol tucked into the back of his pants. Even as he drew it, Jim had put two shots into him, in the chest and between the eyes, and the man was dead before he hit the ground. 

It was a righteous shoot, witnessed by Simon, H and Rafe, and he felt no remorse whatsoever. 

Gazing at Blair’s peaceful face, Jim was glad that at least there was minimal damage to those perfect features, although there was a significant gash hidden beneath the thick dressing around Blair’s head, which had required several stitches. It would probably scar, but as it was near his hairline, it wouldn’t show too much. 

The rest of his body was another story, though, and although Jim had been assured that the damage was relatively superficial, it was going to be very painful for Blair to move around for a while, on account of the many lacerations and weals all over his body, plus cracked ribs on one side which he probably got falling sideways along with his chair. Some of the worst welts would undoubtedly scar, and it infuriated Jim to think of Blair’s precious skin marked like that. And where did that thought come from? As if he didn’t know, but wasn’t about to acknowledge it yet. 

Now was the time to watch over his guide, and make sure that Blair knew he wasn’t going to be punished for the fallout from his youthful indiscretions. 

His ruminations were interrupted by the arrival of Simon, who had returned to the PD to deal with some necessary paperwork before returning to check on his favourite observer. And his good friend Jim, it had to be said. 

“Hey, Jim. How’s he doing?” Simon’s tone and expression were uncharacteristically gentle as he pulled up a chair next to Jim, his dark eyes full of sympathy as he looked down on the sleeping form. 

“Damn, he looks so young!” he continued, a frown of genuine concern creasing his brow. “I can’t get used to seeing him so still either. It’s weird!” 

“Yeah, you’re right, Simon,” Jim replied, grinning ruefully. “He’s never usually still. Even asleep he twitches and mutters. Can’t seem to help himself! This isn’t normal, for sure. The doc reckons he probably has a mild concussion, but there’s no real damage, according to the CT scans, so hopefully he’s just shut down to get himself some proper healing sleep. 

“Then again, if he doesn’t wake of his own accord soon, they’ll try to wake him up anyway. SOP for concussions.” 

Simon nodded, accepting Jim’s explanation. “You’re probably right, Jim. I mean, you know him better than anyone here, and can scan him to a far greater degree than they can,” he added, smiling knowingly as he glanced at his friend. 

“Yeah, you’re right again, Simon. These senses have to be useful for something, after all,” Jim added bitterly. 

“And that’s enough of that, Jim! Blair would kick your ass if he heard you putting yourself down like that. Give him some credit for seeing your gift as something worthwhile. And give yourself credit too for finding such a great friend in him.” 

Jim didn’t look too convinced, but he didn’t argue the point. “If you say so sir,” he murmured, then turned to face the door. 

“I think Blair’s about to get a visit from Mitch Walewski. I can hear him outside in the corridor.” 

“In that case, Jim, I’ll make myself scarce. Give the kid my best when he wakes up, and tell him I’ll be back to see him again tomorrow unless he’s discharged. In the meantime, make nice with Mr Walewski, OK? I thought he seemed like a nice kid too.” 

“If you say so, sir,” Jim murmured again, grinning wryly. “See you later!” 

As Simon left the room, Jim patted Blair’s arm and murmured, “Be back soon, kiddo. Just going to have a word with your friend Mitch, OK?” 

Of course, he received no answer, so he stood up, stretched to get the kinks out of his long frame, and left the room, not exactly eager to confront Walewski, but knowing it had to be done.  


\--------------------------  


Out in the corridor, Jim watched Mitch rise gracefully from the chair on which he had settled himself, a concerned expression on his handsome face. 

“Detective Ellison? I hope you don’t mind me coming to see how Blair’s doing? I called the PD a while back and was told that you’d found Blair, and that he had been hurt. And I just had to come see for myself.” 

Jim nodded briefly, offering the young man a small smile. “That’s fine, Mr Walewski, but I have to tell you that Blair’s asleep right now. Yes, he was hurt, but hopefully should make a complete recovery. And Lewins won’t be able to hurt him ever again,” he finished grimly. 

Mitch regarded him thoughtfully, head tilted to one side as he connected the dots, but he didn’t question Jim any further on that account. He simply nodded once, and said feelingly, “Good. That’s good. 

“But if you don’t mind, Detective, could we have a word? I mean, I hope I’m not jeopardising anything, but I feel there’s some things you should know. About Blair and me, and about Blair and you….” His voice tailed off uncertainly as Jim frowned in his turn, but the sentinel couldn’t read any malice in Mitch’s demeanour, so he had no reason to demur. 

“Fine. Let’s take it in here, shall we?” and he indicated a small, private waiting area where they would be undisturbed. 

Smiling in relief, Mitch acquiesced to his suggestion and took a seat, waiting for Jim to get settled before he began. 

“Look, Detective Ellison – or may I call you Jim?” and at Jim’s nod of assent he continued. “I want you to know that I’ve thought long and hard about talking to you, but seeing how you are with Blair here in the hospital, I think I’m doing the right thing. I mean, Blair is very dear to me, and the last thing I want to do is hurt him, but on the other hand, if I can clear things between you two, I feel I should do it. 

“Anyway, here goes nothing!” and he took a deep, cleansing breath. 

“As I told you before, Blair and I go way back, almost to when he started at Rainier. And yes, we were lovers for a while. But we parted with mutual consent, and have been best of friends ever since. And yes, I’ve always been aware of his passion regarding the subject of sentinels. 

“So when he started riding with you, I kind of joined the dots. But I wouldn’t say anything, I swear, because he wanted to keep you safe, which is why he puts about that alternative ‘thin blue line’ thing to cover his tracks. 

“But can’t you see, man, that what he feels for you is so much more than hero worship? He adores you, man, and it hurts me to see him denying himself for fear of offending you! 

“OK, I’ve said my piece, and god help me if I’ve made things worse. But I had to try, understand?” he finished somewhat plaintively. 

Jim studied him intently for a long moment, working things out for himself in his head as he considered Mitch’s impassioned plea. 

Seemed like both he and Blair had good friends. Good friends who intended nothing but the best for them. 

So who was he to question it?  



	5. Prompt - Fireworks

**Part 5: Prompt – Fireworks.**   


Early the following morning, Blair finally woke up feeling more or less compos mentis even though the rest of his body hurt like a sonofabitch. He had been woken periodically during the night by the nursing staff, but only to mutter ill-tempered imprecations or pitiful demands like, “gerroff, lemme sleep!” It was as if his subconscious had wanted a little more time in which to settle himself and find a measure of equilibrium before facing up to harsh reality again. 

But apparently that time was up, and he couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer. 

With the return to full consciousness also came memory, and he was no longer able to hide from the dismal fact that, thanks to his less-than-pure past, he had probably blown the best friendship he had ever had. Oh, sure, Jim had ridden to the rescue yet again – and let’s not even _think_ about what might have gone down if he had been any later – but surely it was simply because he was pre-programmed to protect the guide rather than Blair-the-irritating-grad student. He had been more than accommodating to date as far as putting up with Blair continually in his home and in his face was concerned, but Blair knew in his heart of hearts that the end must be coming soon. He had overstayed his welcome by many months now, and felt sure that it wouldn’t be long until Jim was comfortable enough with the senses to be able to manage by himself, and when that happened, it’d be _‘Thanks Chief, but don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way out.’_

And he could hardly blame Jim, could he? It appeared to him that Jim had constantly been forced to rescue his tagalong guide – (Blair wouldn’t dare refer to himself as Jim’s partner, after all) – and it never even occurred to him to believe that he had also done his share of rescuing and protecting. He had, after all, been flying by the seat of his pants throughout this whole ‘Sentinel’ gig, and simply considered himself lucky that he hadn’t made any truly monumental blunders. 

And he’d have laughed himself silly if anyone had had the temerity to suggest he was a talented guide and helpmeet in his own right. 

But enough of such despondency. He had to get himself discharged from hospital as soon as possible, because he was certain his meagre insurance wouldn’t cover more than the basics, and he so didn’t need any more debts. He’d probably be looking for alternative accommodation also, and that wouldn’t come cheap. Mitch would undoubtedly let him crash at his place for a few nights, but Blair knew it couldn’t be anything permanent. He loved Mitch dearly, but they were far better as friends than lovers, and it seemed unfair to expect Mitch to maintain the status quo with temptation living under his very roof. 

Then again, as a temporary measure, it was a plan of sorts, so with a soft sigh he finally opened his eyes, only to gasp in surprise when two bleary but warm blue eyes met his. Jim’s eyes, and by the looks of him, he’d been here at Blair’s bedside all night. 

“Hey, Chief. You properly awake this time? How are you feeling, kiddo?” 

Dry-mouthed, Blair had to work for a moment to get his throat lubricated enough to speak, and when he replied his voice was rusty and hoarse. 

“Um, could be better, I guess, but also, could have been a lot worse. Thanks for coming for me, man. I’m so sorry to be such a nuisance…” 

“And that’s enough of that, Chief,” Jim admonished. “There was no way you could have foreseen something like this happening. And don’t even think about apologising for something that happened in your past. You were young, vulnerable and unprotected, and we’re all entitled to make bad decisions sometimes. I’m just glad you had someone to help you back then. That Mitch character cares for you a lot, doesn’t he?” 

“Ah, yeah, he does, Jim,” Blair replied warily, “But how did you know that? And how did you know how to find me?” 

Jim scrubbed at his day-old beard for a moment before meeting his guide’s perplexed gaze. This was going to be hard on both of them, but he surely hoped that the end result would work out OK. 

“Well, Chief, it was because of the tape. The one in your office that didn’t get switched off. Simon and I listened to it, and it gave us the lead we wanted. As did the information we got from your friend Walewski.” 

At his words, Blair blanched even more, and Jim could see the panic beginning to take hold, so he reached over quickly and took Blair’s hand. 

“Easy, Chief. It’s OK, I promise. Only Simon and I know the full content of that tape, and I’m not angry, you hear? I’m _not_ , Chief,” he repeated more forcefully, willing Blair to believe him. 

“B…b…but why, Jim? _Why_ aren’t you mad at me? You’re straight, man, and a cop! I never wanted you to know how I really felt about you, because I didn’t want to have to leave. Not until you didn’t need me anymore, anyway.” 

“Maybe because I felt the same about _you,_ babe,” Jim replied gently, with a warm smile. “I assumed you were a committed skirt-chaser, so why would you be interested in a cranky, aging cop? I was just grateful for the time you did spend with me, and was dreading the day you finished your paper and left me.” 

The expression on Blair’s face was one of amazement, love and hope, with just a tinge of anxiety. 

“I guess we’re quite the pair, aren’t we, Jim?” he murmured, squeezing Jim’s hand as hard as he could. “And for the record, I never wanted to leave the loft and you. Even if I had to change the subject of my diss, Jim. I mean, yes, I want to finish the paper, but I want to do it for you. My Sentinel. And the whole ‘closed societies – thin blue line’ thing is coming along nicely too,” he added shyly, praying that Jim wouldn’t be mad at him for keeping his plans secret. 

He needn’t have worried, as Jim’s tired face lit up with a beautiful smile. 

“Chief, you never cease to amaze me!” he murmured warmly. “How could I not love you?” 

However, just then all Blair’s aches and pains, although temporarily ignored during the wonder of their revelations, surged back with a vengeance, and he moaned involuntarily. 

“OK, Chief, that’s enough for now,” Jim muttered firmly. “I’ll call the nurse, and get her to give you a dose of happy juice, and we’ll continue this later, OK?” 

And Blair raised a wan smile even as he sank back into his pillows, closing his eyes as he breathed through the pain. An action made easier through the comforting presence of his sentinel protector, and, hopefully, soon-to-be lover.   


\---------------------------------  


**Following afternoon, the loft:**  


The two men entered the loft, Jim’s arm wrapped supportively around Blair’s waist as he helped the smaller man totter towards the sofa. Settling down into the cushions with a sigh of relief, Blair met Jim’s worried gaze with a tired smile. “It’s OK, man. I’m fine, really. Just so glad to be back.” 

Smiling in response, Jim said, “Welcome home, Chief. It’s good to have you back where you belong. And at least they didn’t keep you in for a third night like Dr Peterson wanted.” 

“I think he was just being a pain in the ass deliberately,” Blair replied with a grin. “I gather he didn’t like being overridden by you and Simon when I was first admitted, and I think he probably thought the worst about our relationship, too.” 

“Then that’s his problem, babe,” Jim shot back. “It’s none of his business what we are to each other, but at least none of the other nursing staff had a problem with us.” 

“I should think not, man,” Blair chuckled. “Marvin the night nurse couldn’t keep his eyes off you, and Brenda told me she thought we were a ‘sweet couple’. Her words, not mine!” 

“Be that as it may,” Jim answered thoughtfully, “I’m just relieved that his suspicions were unfounded as far as your head injury was concerned. You were lucky to get off with just a mild concussion, Chief, even though it probably felt far worse to you. And although I know you’re going to be stiff and sore for a good while yet, at least you can recover at home without being poked every five minutes.” 

“Food’s better too,” snickered Blair, stifling a yawn. “And I should be able to sleep longer than a couple of hours without someone sticking me with something sharp!” 

“For now, anyway,” Jim replied with a mock-lecherous leer. “But just wait until you’re well again, my pretty! Mwahahaha!” and he twirled an imaginary moustache while wiggling his eyebrows. 

Blair laughed aloud at that, feeling happier and more light-hearted than he had in days, despite his injuries. This was a playful side to Jim that he hadn’t really seen before, and he wanted to see it as much as possible from now on. 

However, there were other things he needed to know before he could relax fully, so he looked up to meet Jim’s quizzical gaze. 

“Um, are you sure you’re OK with taking a bit of time off to nurse me, Jim? I mean, I really don’t want to be a nuisance.” 

Jim dropped to his knees in front of the sofa and took Blair’s hands in his. “It’s no trouble at all, babe,” he said sincerely. “I _want_ to be here for you, and I have plenty of vacation time built up. Simon’s OK with it, and it’s not as if I can go out in the field anyway until the IA investigation clears me. And don’t get worried about that either, babe. I’m not. It was a righteous shoot, so this is just a formality. And I don’t feel in the least bit guilty for shooting that piece of shit!” 

Blair squeezed his hands, and ducked his head for a moment before responding. 

“I know, Jim. But I can’t help feeling responsible somehow. For putting you in the position of having to shoot to kill. And I feel even worse because I can’t find it in me to feel sorry for Lewins myself. I’m _glad_ he’s dead, so what does that make me?” he finished plaintively. 

“Human, babe, that’s what,” Jim answered firmly. “So stop beating yourself up, and let’s just both be thankful that we’re alive and together. And we’re going to stay that way, right?” 

“Right, Jim! Always!” and Blair leaned forward to offer his mouth for a kiss. Their first proper kiss, as you couldn’t really count the surreptitious pecks they’d stolen during Blair’s brief hospital stay on account of preserving the sensibilities of the other patients admitted to the side ward. 

As they savoured the sweetness of the moment, both men wondered at the rightness of it. Of coming together as one at last, even through the simple touch of lips and tongue. 

Pulling apart at last, mainly because of Blair’s discomfort even though he was trying to ignore it, Jim smiled lovingly down into the wide, slightly unfocussed blue eyes. 

“If it’s OK with you, babe, I’d like to take you upstairs to bed. Not to do anything acrobatic, I promise, but because you need the rest, and I’d just like to hold you. Would that be OK?” 

Blair’s grin was wide and happy as he purred, “Oh yes! Yes please, Jim. I’ve wanted to be in your bed for the longest time!” 

“Then your wish is my command, honey. But bathroom first, perhaps?” 

“Yeah, I guess. But after that I’m all yours!”  


\-----------------------------------  


Some time later, Blair rested in Jim’s arms, warm, sated and contented despite his many bruises and abrasions. Although Jim had said ‘no acrobatics’, both men wanted more than just a cuddle, and Blair had pleaded with Jim to at least try to go a little further. So although incredibly wary of hurting his trusting guide, Jim had capitulated, with great success. He had employed his senses to the full, keeping his touch exquisitely light, such that Blair felt nothing but pleasure as his battered body was mapped and explored with the utmost delicacy. And as for Jim, he marvelled at the bounty laid out before him, able at last to touch, sniff, listen, taste and look to his heart’s content. The mutual exploration was beautiful in its gentleness and simplicity, such that both men came within moments of each other, even without energetic physical passion. 

And in the aftermath, as a pliant Blair allowed himself to be carefully arranged to Jim’s satisfaction within his sentinel’s protective embrace, he couldn’t help but murmur softly, “Thank you Jim. That was amazing, man. The best yet, because I felt your love for me in every touch, and I’ve never felt so completely cherished before. 

“But I promise you, that as soon as I’m well enough, I’ll give you real fireworks, man! I won’t disappoint you, I swear!” 

And Jim replied lovingly, “I know you will, babe, and I’ll look forward to it. But never think that that’s all I need. This was wonderful for me too, and I don’t need fireworks to prove it, lover. 

“But then again, when you’re ready, I say ‘bring it on, babe!’” 

And after kissing his sentinel soundly, Blair laughed in delight.  


**The End**


End file.
